


have a baby by me, baby

by Cerian



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerian/pseuds/Cerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The evening is almost over, the sky bright blue with tinges of yellow at the horizon. </p><p>Eames keeps stroking his own stomach, big and round and soft, with both hands, looking outside the window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have a baby by me, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response for a prompt at the kinkmeme. Also, the title is borrowed from 50 Cent's ''Baby By Me'' because I honestly have no idea what else I'm supposed to call it. Also, English is not my first language. Mistakes happen. Feel free to correct them though, because even though I've tried my best I guess there's probably some I haven't seen.

Sunlight slants through the bedroom window, golden and slowly fading away, lading on Eames face as he’s lying on his back in the bed, atop the sheets. The breeze coming in, invites the smell of summer, grassy and fresh and cold, just as he likes it. He places a hand on his stomach, stretched and swollen under his fingertips, and remembers how he used to like the sweltering heat of far-away continents, clubs where the lanterns lights were dimmed, loud music and insistent chattering of people surrounding him, a cold beer in his hand, sweat trickling down his back, another forgery accomplished, another job done well, not knowing where tomorrow would take him, and thinks, that’s not how he likes it at all now.  
  
Suddenly, there’s a small kick under his hand, and Eames closes his eyes, smiles before murmuring soft sounds, gently patting his own belly. ‘’It’s alright, my darling, calm down, Daddy was just reminiscing, he’s not going back to that now, not when he has you and your Papa.’’  
  
The evening is almost over, the sky bright blue with tinges of yellow at the horizon.  
  
Eames keeps stroking his own stomach, big and round and soft, with both hands, looking outside the window. He thinks of treatments, medications, and the months of pain and tiredness and sickness, hormone changes, body changes that seemed to lead to nowhere, and their aftermaths; crying, sobbing, screaming over negative tests, the taste of disappointment bitter on his tongue, feeling like a failure, and Arthur’s face so cleverly, _frustratingly_ neutral, until -- until it miraculously worked and Arthur had looked so dazed, mouth and eyes wide, much like a child himself, hands shaking as he touched Eames stomach with reverence.  
  
‘’I’m very happy to have the both you.’’ Eames says , mostly to himself, and takes in the impossibility of it all, and how he wouldn’t change it for the world, his own skin stretched and warm under his t-shirt, his child safe, growing, this precious life he and Arthur created together.  
  
Eames used to count himself as number one, his instinct of self-perseveration far stronger than any others he had, and he thinks now that he’d die in less than a heartbeat if it meant to keep his baby safe, if it meant to keep his family safe. Somewhere along the lines, he and Arthur went from hard-eyed criminals to _this_. He smiles to himself, turning his head.  
  
Arthur is leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed at his chest and smiling the biggest shit-eating grin Eames has ever witnessed.  
  
‘’Speak of the devil’’ Eames mutters loudly, grinning back.  
  
Arthur laughs, comes over and sits on the bed, his hand, out of habit, immediately reaching for Eames swollen belly. His fingers are cold, Eames notices, and relishes in them, the way stroke gently over his ripped skin. Then they slip from his stomach to his chest, before pulling out of the fabric and cupping his cheek instead.  
  
Arthur leans over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. Eames grabs Arthur’s hair, deepening the kiss, and Arthur reciprocates by sucking harder on his bottom lip. Eames whimpers, a small sound in the back of his throat escaping without meaning to.  
  
When the kiss ends, Eames breathes a little more shallowly. Arthur has his gaze fixed on his face, before kissing him again, short and closed-mouth.  
  
'’You’re really fucking gorgeous like this, you know.’’ Arthur declares when he pulls away again.  
  
Eames scoffs at him, fights down the specks of colour trying to blossom on his cheeks. ‘’Arthur, language.’’  
  
Arthur glances down to Eames bump. ‘’Sorry,’’ he says sheepishly, and switches his position, gaining better access to press a gentle kiss against Eames stomach. Something stirs in Eames heart then, an aching sort of warmth, and his breath hiccups, fingers tugging at Arthur’s hair.  
  
Arthur glances over at him, smiling into his skin, ‘’I’m very happy to have both of you as well'', rubs the tip of his nose against his bump.  
  


Eames can feel the corners of his lips twitch, but bites down the urge to smile. Arthur's been immersed with his belly, has been since the beginning, and it’s nothing new, really, the way he pushes up Eames t-shirt further away with deft, gentle movements, pressing more kisses into his skin, but it makes Eames heart flutter nonetheless.  
  
Suddenly Eames gasps, feeling another kick, this one more harsh than the previous one. Arthur looks up at him, alarmed. Eames smiles reassuringly, ‘’it’s nothing. Been like this all day. Just go on.’’  
  
Arthur gives Eames hand a tight squeeze, before cooing, ‘’hey baby, why are you giving your Daddy such a hassle, hmm?’’  
  
Eames closes his eyes, lets Arthur’s deep and lovely voice wash over him, soothing.  
  
‘’You’re probably impatient to get out, but not now, not yet, honey. And I know, it’s terrible, because even I’m almost going crazy waiting for you. And we all know how patient I am.’’  
  
Eames’ laughs soundlessly, but doesn’t open his eyes. _Twat,_ he thinks fondly.  
  
‘’But it’s just a month left, and then I can finally see your beautiful face and it’s all going to worth it.’’ Arthur whispers into his belly, warm breath prickling Eames skin.  
  
‘’So be good, okay. Daddy’s gone through so much to have you. He loves you, you know. I love you too -- You’re going to be perfect, and beautiful and clever and you’re going to be ours and we’re going to love you so much. We love you so much, already. And we're only going to love you more. We’re going to be here for you, for everything.’’  
  
There it is again, the lurch in Eames heart.  
  
‘’I'll videotape your first smile, your first words, your first steps, and show them to you when you're older so you can be ridiculously embarrassed, but still call me cool because I’m the one who's going to teach you how to ride a bicycle, and how to tie your shoes, and how to swim and how to shoot a slingshot, and we'll build a tree-house together and camp in it and -- I love you _so much_ kiddo, be here soon yeah?''  
  
 _Don’t cry,_ Eames repeats to himself, _stupid hormones._  
  
''Daddy’s probably going to teach you how to paint, and help you with your homework. Except from math. He’s no good at math. I’ll have to be responsible for that.’’  
  
Eames gives Arthur a swift smack on his arm, more sound than slap. Arthur grins, grabbing Eames hand, nibbling at the delicate skin of his knuckles, ‘’and we’ll both teach you how to defend yourself.’’  
  
Eames frowns, but doesn’t open his eyes, Arthur’s voice having lulled him into serenity, ‘’my child will not be raised to be violent, Arthur.’’  
  
Arthur protests with a gurgling sound in the back of his throat. ‘’It won’t be violence, just, self-defence, you know. The basics, really. And hush, will you? I was talking to _our_ child. Stop interrupting the moment.’’  
  
Eames sticks his tongue out, but Arthur’s too busy with peppering kisses, fingers teasing the skin under his navel to respond.  
  
‘’I’m going to be the best father I can possibly be for you. At least, I hope I do. I’ll probably do some mistakes, but always know I only want the best for you.’’  
  
Arthur words are punctuated by a final kiss, and then he's pulling Eames t-shirt down. After that, he’s annoyingly pushing and pulling until Eames caves in and turns to his side, and can feel the hardness of Arthur’s chest against his back.  
  
‘’You’re going to be an amazing father.’’ Eames murmurs sleepily.  
  
‘’Yeah?’’ Arthur grins, covering the duvet over them.  
  
Eames makes a sound of agreement and snuggles closer into Arthur’s embrace, ''yeah, definitely''.


End file.
